


Titillating Tales

by Anonymous



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Light Bondage, PWP, Smut, Voyeurism, sonness in chapter 2 with preath
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26108113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Some T+C smut, starting with: Tobin can't keep her hands to herself, and Christen just might have to use the cuffs on her.
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 26
Kudos: 131
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> I saw the fluffy "Summer Shorts" and the "Quantized Angst" going around, and I felt like we needed the trifecta with "Titillating Tales". Here is the first smutty short.

Sometimes she just can’t keep her hands to herself. It’s like Christen is magnetic and she’s helpless to not touch her. 

And when Christen is looking like THAT, black lacy lingerie hugging all her curves, revealing just enough, but not too much. When she’s leaning over so that Tobin gets the PERFECT view of the thong riding up her ass, the see-through lace doing nothing to hide how fucking squeezable her ass is -

She can’t really be expected not to touch. 

Right?

Christen smacks her hand away, smirks, shakes her finger at her. “Uh, uh, uh! You’re supposed to be good, baby. Remember?” 

Tobin whines, clenches her legs together, shifts on the bed, anything for a little friction. She loves Christen like this. She knows that most people don’t get to see her like this. 

But she does. 

She puts her hands behind her, leans back on them, takes in the view as Christen sways her hips, struts towards her. She bites her lip, trying so hard to be good, to not touch, but when Christen turns back around, bends over to touch her toes, coming back up slowly…

“Tobin!” Christen warns. She catches her wrist this time, bring it up above Tobin’s head. She climbs into her lap, straddling her, and guides her back, laying her down, grip firm on Tobin’s wrist. 

Christen leans down and kisses her deeply, biting at Tobin’s lower lip as she pulls away, sneaking one hand down to grab Tobin’s other wrist and bring it up over her head too. “No touching,” Christen warns before placing another quick kiss to Tobin’s lips. 

Tobin grins, she can’t help it. She’s so worked up already. Just the pressure of Christen’s body on hers feels amazing. She has no doubt that there is a noticeable wet spot on her white boxers, but she doesn’t care. She knows Christen knows exactly what she’s doing, exactly how much she’s turning her on. 

“Can you be good?” Christen asks, her lips on Tobin’s throat. “Or am I going to need to restrain you?” 

Tobin feels Christen’s teeth graze against her sensitive skin, feels the lick that soothes it over. She’s already squirming beneath Christen’s touch. “Baby,” she whimpers. 

Christen’s grasp on her wrists tightens. “That is not an answer, Tobin.” She slides her leg up between Tobin’s, forcing her apart, pressing up to provide a beautiful hit of pressure and pleasure. 

Tobin grinds down against Christen’s thigh, a small gasp escaping her lips. 

“That is, though,” Christen replies, moving her leg. “Naughty, naughty,” she scolds. “Well then…” 

Tobin cries out as Christen’s body lifts off of hers quickly, every cell in her body feeling the absence acutely. Christen walks across to their dresser and pulls out the handcuffs, just like Tobin knew she would. 

She’s cold and clinical as she snaps the cuffs closed around Tobin’s wrist, the cold metal presses into Tobin’s skin. The fire in Christen’s eyes betrays her, though. She is just as turned on by this, just as into it. 

“Do you think you can be good now?” Christen asks, leaning specifically across Tobin’s face to close the cuffs around her other wrist. 

And her small, perfect tits are right there, the dark of her nipples visible through the sheer lace dancing over it. She can’t help herself. She really can’t. 

She reaches up, kisses, licks. 

Christen gasps and pulls away. “Tsk tsk. Miss Heath, you ARE being bad today.” 

Tobin smirks. “What are you going to do about it?” she challenges. 

Christen grins. “Oh, baby, you’re going to need to be punished.” 

She stands up straight and slides one shoulder strap down her arm, slowly, dancing as she does it. “I think, baby, that today you get to look, but you don’t get to touch.”

Tobin moans. There is no greater torture than not being allowed to touch Christen, to feel that exquisite body move against her, to elicit moans and gasps and curses from Christen, to work her up and feel how wet she is, to taste her. She lets out another whine just thinking of what she’s missing. She knows it’s temporary. She knows that tomorrow she’ll be allowed to touch all she wants. But for now -

Christen slides her own hand down her chest, rubs her breast through the lingerie, pinching the nipple, her eyes fluttering shut as she does it again. “Mmm,” she hums, clearly enjoying her own touch. 

Tobin presses her legs together, rocks her hips up, tugs at the cuffs. Christen’s eyes open again and she smirks as she slips her fingers under the sheer fabric, her fingers working at her breast visible through it. 

“God, I’m sensitive today,” Christen teases. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so sexy,” Tobin murmurs. 

Christen raises an eyebrow at her. “Shame you can’t feel how wet I’m getting, Tobin.”

Tobin whimpers. “Fuck.”

“Mmm, yes, I guess you won’t be allowed to do that today either.”

God, Christen knows how to say all the right things, to do all the right things to work her up. Her fingers are practically aching to touch as Christen slides the other strap down her other arm and her negligee drops to the floor, leaving her clad only in her lacy black thong. 

Christen bites her lower lip as she caresses both breasts at once, pinching the nipples. Tobin can see the way her muscles strain, can see the way her breath catches as she squeezes a little harder, giving herself a tiny hit of pain with the pleasure. 

Tobin shifts her legs again. She can feel how wet she is, sticky at the tops of her thighs. She needs something, but she knows she’s not going to get it. Not yet. 

Christen looks down at her, lets her eyes stray over Tobin’s body, and Tobin swears she can feel the heat of her gaze. 

“Does this turn you on, baby?” Christen asks. 

Tobin nods. 

“Do you like seeing me give myself pleasure?” she teases as she slides a hand down her stomach, teases a finger along the elastic of her thong. 

“Fuck, yes!” Tobin gasps, her hips bucking up. 

“Hmmm, let me see how much,” Christen instructs. 

Tobin spreads her legs wide without having to be asked twice. She lets Christen see the dampness of her boxers, arches up as Christen moves in closer, climbs onto the bed, slides her hands up Tobin’s legs. 

“Fuck, babe. You’re so wet,” she gasps as she tugs Tobin’s boxers down, leaving her fully exposed. 

Tobin doesn’t close her legs, though. She let Christen look. Lets her touch. If she’s good now she might get some relief. Christen might touch her even if she’s not allowed to touch. 

“Look at you. Fuck. You’re so gorgeous,” Christen breathes. 

Tobin can feel the flush spreading up her body, knows her cheeks are tinged pink. Even after all this time, after how much Christen has seen her naked, she still makes her feel special. 

Christen dances slow circles up Tobin’s inner thighs with her fingers until she reaches her pussy. Then she dips a finger in without warning. Just a little. 

Tobin bucks up, urging her deeper, so worked up that even this small of a touch has her closer to the edge, but Christen just chuckles, pulls her hand away, climbs back off the bed. 

“Fuck, Chris,” Tobin whines. 

“Be patient, love,” Christen urges, resuming her attention to her breasts. 

Tobin can’t take her eyes off of the way that Christen’s hands move around her own body, has no choice but to watch as Christen’s fingers graze their nails across her ribs, down her abs. Tobin’s tugging at her restraints again, trying to get a better view as Christen’s fingers slide into her underwear. Christen’s head falls back and her eyes close and her mouth opens in a small moan and Tobin is ACHING to touch, to feel, to see. 

“Mmmm, I’m so wet, Tobin.” 

“Fuck.”

Tobin can tell that she’s working at least one finger in, but she can’t see nearly enough. She struggles a little more, but to no avail. 

Christen moans again, the muscles in her arm flexing as she works into herself. “So wet, baby. Don’t you want to feel?” 

Tobin nods. “God, yes, please, baby!” 

Christen slides her hand back out from her underwear and grins. “Shame you can’t,” she teases, bringing her fingers to her lips and licking them clean. 

“Fuck!” 

Christen hooks her thumbs through the waistband of her thong and starts to tease it down, slowly. Tobin’s already licking her lips in anticipation of what will be revealed. 

“Hmm, but I suppose,” Christen says, sliding first one side down, then the other, “that I could show you how wet I am.” 

“Fuck, please,” Tobin pleads. 

When the thong drops, Tobin’s mouth goes dry. She can see that Christen’s gotten waxed, can see her pussy lips glistening wet. 

“Fuuuuck,” she moans. 

“You like that, baby?” Christen asks. 

“God, you’re so sexy. Fuck, baby. Please. Please can I touch you? God, please, baby. Fuck!”

Christen puts a finger to her chin, mimes thinking hard. “Hmmm. I don’t think so, baby. You were VERY naughty before. But maybe you can still feel.”

Tobin whimpers as she nods. “Please. Please, baby! I’ll be so good now!”

Christen grins a predatory grin as she climbs onto the bed, crawling up over Tobin, eyes glued to her. 

And Tobin watches enraptured until Christen straddles her stomach and slides her wetness across her skin, and then Tobin groans. Christen is so beautifully wet. 

“God, baby….”

“Feel how wet I am?” Christen asks, grinding down against her. “And there’s you not being able to touch, baby.”

“Fuck!” 

She leans down and kisses Tobin hard and dirty. “Maybe next time you’ll be good from the start, she teases against Tobin’s lips. 

Tobin chases the kiss as Christen sits back up, grinding her wetness down against Tobin again before sliding back. 

There’s pressure, just for a brief moment, exactly where Tobin needs it, and she’s so sensitive, so worked up, that she cries out, but then it’s gone. Christen is kneeling between her legs, keeping her spread wide, and she leans back on one arm, arching her back, as she brings her other hand to touch herself. 

Tobin whimpers and writhes as she watches Christen’s fingers part herself, rubbing circles around her clit, sliding lower, slipping inside of her, then teasing back to her clit. 

She arches her back more as she gets closer, hips rocking up against her own touch, breasts pushed up. 

Tobin wants to touch, wants her fingers to be where Christen’s are, wants to taste her on her tongue, but for now all she can do is watch and it is a truly glorious sight. 

Her eyes trail over taut muscles, watch as Christen’s arm works harder, her wrist angling to hit a different spot, reach a little deeper. She watches as Christen rides her own fingers, knows that her palm is hitting her clit just right by the moans escaping Christen’s throat. 

Tobin’s rocking her own hips against air, feeling like she might explode if she doesn’t get to at least touch herself soon, but Christen is too far gone. She’s not worried about Tobin’s pleasure in this moment. Not as she bucks more wildly against her hand, her head thrown back, long dark curls cascading down her back, ghosting against her ankles as she moans and her breath grows uneven. 

Tobin can see the way her body starts to shake and spasm, knows that the knowledge that Tobin is watching is part of what’s getting her off. And, God, Tobin’s close just from watching. The barest hint of friction might do it. 

And then Christen is coming down, a satisfied smile on her face, her fingers sliding out, glistening wet, and Tobin licks her lips. She wants to taste so very badly. 

And maybe she’s been good enough because Christen moves back up her body, places her fingers at Tobin’s lips, and Tobin sucks them in eagerly, moaning at the taste. 

Christen lies her body on top of her, hips between Tobin’s legs, and Tobin rocks against the pressure, wild and untamed as she gets the friction that she needs. She’s so wet, so sensitive that just rubbing against Christen’s abs with the taste of her on her lips is enough. 

Her body shudders through wave after wave and Christen kisses her through it, coos soft words into her ear, tells her how good she is, how she deserves to come, how sexy Christen finds her like this. 

When she comes down, Christen unlocks the cuffs, kisses her wrists tenderly and curls up to snuggle. Tobin still knows that she’s not really allowed to touch. Not the way she’d love to. Not today. But this is enough. Tomorrow is another day and another story. 


	2. Inviting a Friend to Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily has always had a crush on Christen, but she never thought she'd get to act on that crush. It turns out that Tobin likes to watch, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno what the word "short" means, clearly. This chapter has voyeurism. It is pure smut. Enjoy.

"You're cute, Sonny." 

The comment strikes her as odd. Not so much for the words themselves. More for the tone in which Christen had said it. It makes her heart start to race. 

"I usually get funny, but I'll take cute," she quips with a grin. 

She doesn't miss the look that Christen and Tobin exchange, the sort of silent communication they share, and then Christen's attention is back on her. 

"Funny AND cute," she amends. 

Emily swallows hard. This is not really how she'd expected the dinner invitation to go. Well, to be fair, dinner itself had largely gone exactly how she'd expected, but the drinks afterwards, well -

Christen's finger trails down her arm and sends a shiver up her spine. "We're really glad you came to dinner tonight." 

Emily giggles nervously. "Of course. You know I love to hang out when you're in town. Not that I don't love to hang out with just Tobs. Obviously I do. Just, you know..." she fades out, feeling her cheeks flush. 

"Oh, yes. We know," Christen confirms with a smirk. She shoots another look over at Tobin who's leaning back against the wall, bottle of beer in her hand, surveying them calmly.

Emily swallows hard again. "This kinda has a 'vampires invite their unsuspecting prey over to ravish and then eat' vibes to it, guys. Why are you being weird?" 

It's meant as a joke. It's not meant as anything at all. She doesn't mean to suggest - 

But Christen smirks wider and says, "Maybe half of that. Minus the whole vampiric element."

Emily laughs. What else can she do? It has to be a joke. It's - 

"We know about the crush, Sonny," Tobin says. 

Except there's no way that's true. If Tobin knew then Emily would be dead and Christen would be avoiding her. They would not be here, like this, with Tobin watching and Christen...teasing? 

"I'm flattered," Christen murmurs, lips far closer to her ear than she'd expected, making Emily jump. 

"I mean, it's just...I don't really - I'll get over it, obviously. I don't think I actually, have...a...chance?" 

Her words end in confusion as Christen's hand wraps around her waist from behind, her back pressing into Christen's front, and Christen says, "Would you like to know a secret, Em?" 

The use of the nickname surprises her, and she feels it all through her body. Without properly thinking it through she nods. 

"Tobin likes to watch."

Emily’s eyes fly to Tobin. She’s not sure if she’s looking for signs that she’s being punked or looking for confirmation, but Tobin’s pressing herself back into the wall, biting her lower lip, her eyes focussed on where Christen’s thumb is brushing up and down Emily’s stomach. 

It’s -

“Fuck,” Emily gasps. 

“Mm, that’s the idea,” Christen muses, into her hair. She sweeps it to the side and then her lips are brushing the skin of Emily’s neck as she adds, “If you’re interested.”

  
  


She’s not completely sure she’s not dreaming, if she’s being 100% honest with herself, but she is sure as hell going to make the most of it. 

She’s seen Christen before, obviously. You can’t share locker rooms and ice baths with people without catching glimpses, even if you do your best to avert your eyes, just like she’s always done around Christen. But now she’s allowed to look. Now she’s allowed to marvel at the tone of her muscles, the glow of her skin, to trace the path of freckles down her chest. 

“You’re allowed to touch,” Christen informs her, climbing into her lap, straddling her waist on either side with powerful thighs. 

Emily whimpers. 

In front of her are two small, but perfect breasts, the nipples hard and dark. In her lap is the most gorgeous ass she’s ever seen. Pressed against her, covered only by a thin strip of silky fabric, Christen’s pussy is growing wet. She can tell. She can feel it against her skin. 

She doesn’t know what to touch first. She wants it all. 

She looks past Christen to where Tobin is sitting on a chair in the corner of the bedroom, eyes focussed on the two of them, hand idly stroking exposed abs as she sits there clad only in white boxers and a grey sports bra. 

“She likes it when you grab her ass,” Tobin supplies. 

So Emily does. 

She can’t stop the moan that escapes her lips, can’t stop the way her hips rock up as Christen arches into her, lets out a little gasp. 

“Mmm, strong hands,” Christen comments. She bites her lower lip, grinds down into Emily’s lap, and Emily -

Fuck. 

Is it possible to come without being touched? Because Christen might just make her do that. 

“Smack it,” Tobin instructs, and Emily does. 

She smacks one cheek and then the other and Christen grinds down against her harder, lets out a moan of her own. Emily rubs her hands over the skin she’s just smacked, grabs again, and Christen buries her face in Emily’s neck. 

She feels wet kisses trailing down her throat, across her shoulder, as she gets a little bolder, her hands roaming a little more freely over Christen’s skin. 

There’s a hint of teeth at her collarbone as her fingers trail over Christen’s back, around to her sides and back down. Christen’s skin is soft and sensitive if the shiver that runs through her is anything to judge by. 

Christen sits up straighter, arches so that her breasts are right in front of Emily’s face, begging her to touch them. 

“Don’t be shy,” Christen urges. “I know you want to.” 

Christen’s lips part in a beautiful gasp as Emily pinches her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. 

Emily can’t resist. She wants more. She brings her mouth to Christen’s smooth skin, kisses down her breast, sucks the hard nipple into her mouth, feels that way that Christen seems to melt into her. 

“Fuck! Yes. Good, Em.”

The praise encourages her and she flicks her tongue out against Christen’s nipple, licks it hard, nips at it with her teeth. Christen moans, arches, presses down into her lap harder. 

“Fuck! You’re good with your mouth. Can’t wait to have you go down on me.” 

The thought makes Emily gasp, pull back, look up into Christen’s face. She hadn’t been sure how much liberty she’d have, but now -

She looks to Tobin, whose fingers are now trailing along the waistband of her boxers. Tobin smirks at her. 

She turns her gaze back to Christen’s green eyes, finds her pupils big, her eyes dark. “Can’t wait until you make me come, baby,” Christen tells her. 

And then Christen’s lips are on hers, her tongue swiping eagerly into Emily’s mouth, her fingers tangling in Emily’s hair. 

Emily moans into the kiss, wraps her arms around Christen, holds her close. 

But then Christen is pulling away, pushing her back onto the bed. 

“I think it’s time we were naked,” Christen declares, climbing out of her lap and standing before her. 

Emily lifts her hips, helps Christen take her underwear off, and then her mouth goes dry as Christen turns around, faces away from her, then slowly drags her underwear down her hips, down her legs, bending all the way over to step daintily out of it. 

Emily raises her head, props up on her elbows, watches. 

And there she is, ass fully presented to Emily, her pussy glistening between her legs. 

“Go on,” Tobin urges. 

Emily sits up and touches, first tentatively, but then Christen wiggles her hips, and Emily smacks her ass, watches the skin turn pink as she does it again. 

“Fuck, you’re sexy,” she breathes. 

Christen wiggles her hips again, and Emily smacks her ass once more, then trails her fingers over the skin, down between the cheeks and brushes it through the wetness that waits for her. 

She feels it through her whole body, moans at the knowledge that Christen is into this, that she wants Emily’s touch. 

Christen stands, then, and turns. “Up on the bed. Lie back, Em,” she instructs, and Emily does it willingly. 

She would do anything to have this night continue, she thinks. 

“Spread your legs for me, Em. I want to see what this crush has done. I want to see how wet I’ve made you.”

Emily can’t help glancing at Tobin, feeling self conscious as she does what Christen’s asked, knowing that the tops of her thighs are gleaming, she’s so wet, so turned on. 

“Fuck,” Tobin murmurs. “Looks like she wants you bad, babe.” 

Christen runs her hands up Emily’s legs, fingers ghosting against the skin, spreading her wider. “Mmm. Yes it does,” she agrees. 

Emily fights the urge to clamp her legs together, to cover herself.

It helps that Christen’s hands have reached her thighs, are running up the insides of them. She rocks her hips up, and Christen smirks. 

“Are you eager to be touched, Em?” 

She feels her cheeks flush, feels the blush burning down her throat and across her chest. She considers downplaying her want, but Christen’s eyes are bright, daring. She nods.

“Yeah? What do you think, Tobs? Should I touch her?” 

Christen looks over her shoulder, her black curls falling to her front as she does so, cascading down her chest, letting her dark nipple peek through the silky strands.

Emily can’t help the way she reaches out to touch, can’t help the urge to rub the hardened nipple, to feel Christen, to remind herself this is all real. 

Christen gasps at the touch and looks back at her. “Mmm...Impatient, are we?” she teases. 

Emily feels her blush deepen, but she manages a small shrug, a small, cheeky grin. 

“Give her a hint,” Tobin instructs. “But don’t get her off. Not yet.” 

Emily’s body shivers at Tobin’s words. She’s about to respond, but then Christen’s fingers are running through her folds, once, twice, teasing, through her wetness then looping loosely around her clit and back through her folds. She bucks at the touch, cries out. She’s instantly desperate for more, and Christen giggles, the sound light and musical. 

“So responsive,” Christen comments, sliding a finger inside of her. “And soaking wet. Baby, can you see how wet she is?”

“I see,” Tobin confirms, her voice a bit breathier. 

Emily glances her way and sees her hand working in her boxers, moving in small circles. She’s touching herself as her girlfriend fucks her. The knowledge only serves to turn Emily on even more. She’s getting to have Christen, getting to be touched by her, and Tobin is watching, is getting off on it. 

“Mmm, so wet,” Christen murmurs. 

Emily’s eyes shift back and her gaze falls on Christen’s chest because as she’s working a finger in and out of her, she’s also brought her free hand up to play with her breasts, massaging them, pinching her nipples. 

Christen’s biting her lower lip as she looks down to where her finger is sliding in and out of Emily, and Emily can’t help but writhe against the touch, but rock her hips, silently asking for more. 

Christen smirks and adds a second finger, sliding them in deeper, and -

Fuck!

God!

It feels so fucking good. 

Emily doesn’t want to miss a second of what’s happening, but her eyes close as she takes a moment to just feel, to feel Christen’s fingers inside of her, working her up embarrassingly quickly. 

“That’s enough.” 

Emily barely registers Tobin’s voice, but then Christen’s fingers are gone and Emily’s crying out in complaint, her eyes snapping open. 

“Fuck,” she whimpers when she finds Christen licking her fingers clean, eyes fluttering shut, low moan emanating from her throat. 

“She tastes good, baby,” Christen informs Tobin. 

“Let me taste,” Tobin instructs, and Emily can only watch as Christen gets off the bed and moves to Tobin, climbing into her lap and kissing her deeply. 

It sends a spasm through Emily’s whole body as Tobin licks her lips afterward and says, “Mmmm, you’re going to enjoy going down on her, aren’t you.” 

Christen’s standing again already, but she’s not moving back towards the bed. Not yet. Instead she’s looking Emily over in an almost predatory way. 

“Now?” she asks Tobin. 

“No. Make her work for it,” Tobin replies as if Emily’s not even there. 

Christen comes back to the bed then, crawling up it, sliding up Emily’s body, placing a kiss to her stomach here, grazing her teeth along a rib there, licking her tongue along Emily’s breast, all the while moving up until they’re face to face. “Do you want to touch me?” Christen asks, staring down into Emily’s eyes. 

Emily feels the question run through her, feels the way her fingers move as if they’re already aching to do just that. 

Christen raises an eyebrow at her expectantly. 

“Yes,” Emily replies, and Christen sinks into a kiss, lets her body press into Emily’s, her hard nipples rubbing against her own, the feeling of her muscles moving only serving to intensify Emily’s pleasure. 

“Touch me, then,” Christen urges into Emily’s mouth. 

Still she hesitates, not that she doesn’t want to, it’s just that she’s still a little unsure of how this is all going to play out, what happens in the after. She doesn’t want it to overwhelm her mind, but she can’t help thinking about it. 

But then Christen’s lips ghost along her jaw and then she’s whispering, “I want you to touch me, Em,” into Emily’s ear. 

So Emily does. She pushes aside her anxiety and she lets her hands run over the smooth skin of Christen’s back. She reaches down, cups her ass, pulls her in closer, moans at the increased contact. 

“Do you want to feel how wet I am for you?”

Emily nods into another kiss, a whimper escaping her lips that almost sounds like, “Please.” 

She feels Christen’s hand take hers, and then she’s guiding her down between their bodies, right to where she’s hot and wet and ready for Emily. 

Emily gasps at the first touch, at the way her fingers come away coated in Christen’s juices. She touches again, fingers probind, sliding barely between her folds, finding her clit and rubbing it once, twice, grinning as Christen cries out and bucks into her at the contact. 

“She’s got a very sensitive clit,” Tobin informs her. Her voice is breathy again and this time Emily doesn’t have to look to know that she’s touching herself. “Just wait until you suck on it.”

Emily rubs it again and is rewarded by a moan and Christen grinding down against her. 

“Ride her fingers, baby,” Tobin instructs. 

Emily understands that she’s meant to follow the instructions here. She’d love to take her time, to tease, but at the same time she has Christen above her, wet, asking her to touch her. She would be foolish not to comply. 

So she slides a finger into Christen, thrusting in shallowly at first, then deeper. 

Christen sits up some, bears down on the contact, her juices slipping out past Emily’s finger and onto her abs. 

“How many fingers are you using?” Tobin asks. 

“One,” Emily replies, more focused on working it in deeper, on figuring out what places she can hit that will make Christen react the most, make her moan out in pleasure. 

“Add a second,” Tobin instructs. 

Emily does it, feeling the way that Christen grips at her fingers, relishing the view as she begins to bounce up and down, her eyes torn between watching her own fingers disappear inside of Christen and watching the way her breasts bounce slightly along with her. 

“Fuck! God! This feels so good!” Christen exclaims, arching her back, hands digging into Emily’s sides as she holds on, as she rides her. 

“Can you take more?” Tobin asks. 

Christen bites her lower lip and nods. 

“Add another,” Tobin tells Emily. 

Emily’s eyes search Christen’s face for confirmation, but her eyes are closed in pleasure, so she does as she’s told, repositioning slightly so she’s working three fingers into Christen. 

“FUCK! YES! FUCK ME, EMILY!” Christen shouts, her hips rocking more erratically as Emily increases her tempo, curls her fingers, tries to reach every part of Christen, to make her feel as good as she can. 

Christen’s riding her fingers hard, grinding down against Emily’s palm, hands travelling wildly over Emily’s chest, over her shoulders, nails digging in a little painfully, but Emily doesn’t care. 

“Don’t stop!” Christen whines over and over. 

And Emily’s wrist is starting to feel the strain, but she doesn’t dare disappoint so she doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow. 

“Fuck! I’m gonna come!” 

Emily watches. She watches as Christen tumbles over the edge, eyes unfocussed, mouth parted in a moan, body shaking. She soaks in every second of the way that Christen spasms around her fingers, pulling her in further, the way her body rolls against hers as she slowly collapses on top of her. 

And then Christen is kissing her deeply, whispering, “Thank you,” against her lips. Saying, “I think that deserves an orgasm.” 

She climbs off of Emily’s fingers, and Emily glances to Tobin, sees the way her fingers are working in and out of her, obvious despite the boxers. “Go ahead. Taste,” Tobin urges.

So Emily does. The taste is intoxicating. A little sweet, a little salty, and so much better than what she could’ve imagined. She wants more. She wants to taste Christen properly, wants to go down on her, work her tongue into her, make her scream her name while Christen grabs at her head, holding her close. 

But then Christen is kissing back down her body, licking at her nipples, pinching them only to kiss them soothingly a moment later before travelling on down. 

Christen kisses along her hipbone, licks at her abs, teases her legs wider with her fingers. She pauses before licking through her, first to look at where Emily knows she’s dripping wet for her, and then to look up, to meet her gaze, to make sure that she’s watching. 

Their eyes locked, Christen leans in and licks all the way through her. Emily holds the gaze until Christen flicks her tongue across her clit and then her head falls back, eyes squeezing shut as she feels. 

Christen’s tongue is magic and unrelenting. In no time, Emily is on the edge, Christen’s fingers working at her clit while her tongue fucks into her, licks through her. Christen hums in contentment, lets out small moans about how good Emily tastes, how hard she’s going to make her come. And it feels like absolute truth as she inches closer, fingers sliding into Christen’s soft curls, tangling there. 

And then Christen’s tongue is on her clit, she’s sucking it into her mouth, and two fingers are sliding into her, pounding hard, hitting just right as if she knows exactly how to undo Emily. And clearly she does, because all it takes is a few more licks, a slight nip to her clit with Christen’s lips, and some well-angled thrusts, and she’s coming, body arching off the bed, legs trembling, wrapping closer around Christen, keeping her there, keeping her steady. 

When she comes down, Christen’s fingers slide out of her and she pulls away, sits back on her heels, wipes around her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes fixed on Emily, smirk gracing her lips. Just the knowledge of WHAT she’s wiping away sends another spasm through Emily. 

“So fucking responsive,” Christen comments, turning to Tobin. 

“Love seeing how well you can fuck, baby,” comes her reply. “Don’t think she’s done with you yet, though.”

Christen turns back to Emily. “Is that true? You want more?” 

Emily’s body feels spent, but she’s not about to admit that she’s done, so she nods. “Want to taste,” she replies. 

Christen grins. “Fuck. I was hoping you’d say that.” 

  
  


There is no more beautiful sight in the world, Emily is sure, than Christen’s wet pussy just above her face. She can’t believe that she gets to lick, gets to taste, gets to have her, even if just for tonight. 

She grabs hold of Christen’s thighs to pull her in closer and she licks through, moaning at the delectable taste. She licks again and again, figuring out what Christen likes, a yelped curse her biggest indication that she’s hitting something right. 

And then Tobin’s words from earlier spring to mind. She thrusts her tongue into Christen again and then shifts, flicks it against Christen’s clit, and is rewarded by a throaty yell and Christen grinding down on her face. She does it again, licking with the flat of her tongue, tracing circles around it, each time causing Christen to cry out in pleasure, to beg for more. She sucks Christen’s clit into her mouth and Christen full on screams a scream of ecstasy. “FUCK, BABY! FUCK! YES!”

She continues her ministrations, over and over and over, licking, her, working her tongue in and out, but then returning to Christen’s clit, until she can feel Christen’s legs on either side of her head start to shake, can feel the increased weight bearing down on her. 

And then Christen is moaning, “Emily, Emily, Emily, fuck, fuck, fuck,” over and over and over until she rolls off, a happy smile on her face. 

Emily licks her lips, wipes around her mouth, takes a moment to relish in the fact that she’d done that, she had made Christen that wet, she had made her come just with her mouth. 

A sound near the bottom of the bed snags her attention and she realizes that Tobin is no longer in the chair. Emily’s not sure if she’s come. She’s been a little too wrapped up in Christen to notice, to be honest. 

But now -

Now Tobin is naked save for her sports bra, and she’s tightening the straps of the strapon and Emily’s mouth goes dry. She’s not sure what’s expected of her now. She’s not sure who it’s for. She’s always had a crush on Christen, but she’s never really thought of Tobin like that. 

But then Tobin is climbing over Christen, kissing her deeply. She leans over and kisses Emily too, but it’s quick, just a flick of her tongue into her mouth. 

“Doesn’t she taste amazing?” Tobin asks, and Emily realizes the kiss wasn’t about her at all, but the taste of Christen still lingering on her tongue. 

“So good,” Emily agrees. 

She feels suddenly self-conscious as Tobin returns to kissing Christen, her hands exploring freely, Christen already moaning into the touch. 

And then Tobin is scooting back down the bed, flipping Christen over, pulling her hips into the air and back towards her. 

Emily’s eyes go wide as she watches the large purple toy disappear inside of Christen, watches as Christen pushes back against it, moaning, ass in the air, pressing back into Tobin. 

“God, you’re so wet,” Tobin moans, thrusting in harder and harder. 

“Mmmm, Emily was good. So good, Tobs. We should invite her over again.” 

Tobin pounds in still harder, hips rocking up and into her. “Well she put on a good show. But will she want to? Poor thing only got one orgasm.” 

Christen is panting as she pushes back onto Tobin, taking the toy deep inside her and clearly loving every second of it. 

Before Emily has a chance to say that she’d love to, she’d be back in a heartbeat if it meant she got to spend more time with Christen like this, Christen says, “I can fix that, baby.”

“Yeah?” Tobin replies, smacking Christen’s ass before returning her hands to her hips, pulling her back. “Think you can focus enough to get her off again?” 

“Fuck! Yes! Yes! Just don’t stop, Tobs! Fuck me harder!” 

Tobin does, and then turns expectant eyes on Emily. “You’re gonna have to reposition,” she points out. 

And Emily does. She moves quickly despite her body’s fatigue, and then she’s once again spread before Christen. Christen’s tongue is less refined in its movements, but she’s humming and moaning with every lick, her nose bumping against Emily with every thrust from Tobin. 

She can tell from the sounds that Christen is making that it won’t be long, but Emily’s so turned on still that she knows it won’t take much for her to get there too. 

Tobin keeps up her rhythm. “Fuck her good, baby. Make her come. Love watching you fuck, sweetheart. Isn’t her tongue fantastic?” 

Emily’s not sure she’s ever heard Tobin say so much at once, but then Christen is swearing, tongue licking erratically, and Emily knows that she’s coming. 

“Not done yet,” Tobin informs them as she barely slows, and then Christen is moaning again, licking harder, working harder to make Emily come. 

When Christen comes again, Emily falls over the edge with her, Christen’s name on her lips.

Only then does Tobin slide out of her, letting Christen lick the toy clean, rocking it down her throat, and then kissing her deeply. 

Tobin’s eyes turn to Emily as she’s taking off the toy. “What do you say, Sonny? You game to play again sometime?” 

Emily looks at her through eyelids laden with sleep and nods. “Anytime you’ll have me.”

  
  



End file.
